


Ache

by Luv_Haze



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oneshot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Snow Ball (Stranger Things), Steve is sad, billy consoles him, billy talks about his mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luv_Haze/pseuds/Luv_Haze
Summary: Steve finds emotional release from everything he's been holding in by sobbing in his car while he waits for Dustin to finish up with the Snow Ball.  Billy finds Steve crying and offers to make him feel better.





	Ache

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble while I toil away at updates for my chaptered fics. Enjoy!

Steve is crying.  It’s from deep within his body, an ugly cry that contorts his face and heaves out of him on its own will.  He’s crying about Nancy, about how happy he is for her and devastated he is for himself.  It’s odd to feel joy and pain at the same time, appreciation and disappointment, but somehow, his mind and heart and soul have a found a way to do so.

He’s crying over Barb, how she died because he didn’t care about her, how he was being young and oblivious that night.  And how when she and Nancy had first arrived, he wished she hadn’t even come.  Now he wishes she hadn’t come for a different reason, she’d still be alive if she had stayed home.  He’s crying over the guilt, the guilt that must’ve torn Nancy apart that he’s just now feeling because he’s already raw and open.

And he’s crying for Joyce, how she lost Bob.  How she almost lost Will, twice.  She’s a nice woman, had a hard, fucked up life but she never stopped being kind to him and the kids.  His heart ached for her pain, she didn’t deserve it, none of them did.  Barb didn’t deserve to die alone, Bob didn’t deserve to be torn apart, Will didn’t deserve to be snatched by an evil monster and occupied like a rag doll.  And El didn’t deserve to grow up in a government facility, treated as subhuman with her name just a number.

But somehow, Steve thinks he deserves what he got.  He lost Nancy, she slipped out right from underneath his gaze, because he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her, not really, not when he was afraid she’d disappear into the Upside Down.

Jonathan deserved her.  He always managed to do what Steve didn’t even think to do much less act on it.  But Steve’s heart hurt nonetheless.  Nancy was his first love, she’d always be immortalized in his heart that way.

“Harrington, are you crying?”

Fucking great.  Of all people to find him sobbing in his car, Billy Hargrove is the last person in the known Universe Steve wants to see him cry.  He’d rather the Mind Flayer get a good look at his tears than Billy.

Steve’s body finds some magical spring of control and the tears stop as if they’d never been there.  He wipes at his eyes, his whole face really.  He needs a tissue, his nose is on the verge of running.  “Jesus, really? Leave me alone,” Steve says.

But Billy is there, standing outside of Steve’s car and then he’s opening the passenger door and getting in.  Fuck, Steve hates himself for not locking the doors and leaving the windows cracked.  He’s been sitting in his car on the far side of the middle school parking lot waiting for Dustin to finish up with the Snow Ball while one sad, tear jerking song after another on the radio had sent him into a rush of self-despair and a major release of emotions.

“Get out,” Steve says, horrified as the overhead light comes on and illuminates his tear stained face. 

“You look like hell,” Billy says, slamming the door shut as he eases into the seat and turns slightly to face him.  “Just when your face healed, you gotta go and cry all over it, make it ugly again.”

Steve closes his eyes and holds back from slapping Billy.  He cannot afford to get his ass beat and he’s in no mood for the asshole’s surly comments so he just wishes Billy away then rubs at his eyes again, uses the cuff of his sleeve to wipe his nose and stares out the windshield, refusing to look at Billy. 

“Why are you crying?” Billy asks.

Steve snorts.  “Oh my fucking God, you’re a piece of work, you know that? Get out of my car.”

Billy is quiet for a moment.  “Fucking look at me, Harrington.”

Steve is so appalled that he whips his head around, mouth full of venom.  “You want me to look at you!  Are you that desperate for my attention that you have to beat the fuck out of my face, follow me around like a goddamn puppy all the time, stare at me, yeah, I see you fucking staring at me, what the fuck, man?  And now you get into my car _uninvited_ and demand that I look at _you_?  You mean nothing to me, don’t you get that? We are _not_ friends.  I don’t like you and I want you to stay the fuck away from me.”

Billy’s face doesn’t flinch at all, which irks Steve.  He wants to hurt Billy, like he’d been hurt, but he can’t even do that right.

“You done?” Billy says.  “You feel better now that you got that out?  I was wondering when you’d crack and tell me off.  You’re too soft, pretty boy, wearing your heart on your sleeve all the time, easy pickings for anyone with a mean streak.  You just keep taking it and you shouldn’t.  About time you stood up for yourself.”

Steve blinks.  His face scrunches up in confusion.  And then he just groans, but it’s a more of a borderline strangled yell.  He slams his hands into his steering wheel a few times, which jar his arms more than he anticipated and fuck _that_ , he stops and just sits there, defeated.

“Now you’re done,” Billy says, the clink of his Zippo opening as he fishes a cigarette out of his pocket.  “Can I smoke in here?”

Steve wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  “Whatever, sure.”

Steve is refusing to look at Billy again, staring out the front window into the dark.  He hears Billy’s deep breath as he lights the smoke and the soft exhale of nicotine relief.

“My mom died when I was nine,” Billy says.  “I still cry sometimes, the way you were just crying.  Like a tidal wave that hits me and I can’t stop it.”

Steve suddenly feels like an asshole.  He tilts his head enough to see Billy out of the corner of his eye. 

Another deep inhale and steady exhale. “My dad told me to stop crying when I was about fourteen, said men don’t cry over their dead mommas.  My mom, though, she was the best.  Real pretty, she could’ve been a model except she met my dad in high school, otherwise I think she would have gone to college and studied Latin.  She was smart too.  But my dad, he’s the one that should’ve died, not her.  Life’s not fair, Harrington, it’s a fucked up mess where bad people thrive and good people are collateral damage.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows, contemplating what Billy is saying.  It’s deep, deeper than he imagined Billy could be.  It changes his mind about him, a little.

“You’re a good person, Steve,” Billy says and Steve really looks at him now, looks him in the eyes.

“I’m not,” Steve says. 

Billy grins and licks his lips.  And stares.  “Yeah, you are.  Because bad people don’t sit in their cars sobbing.”

“You don’t know why I was crying,” Steve says. 

“Don’t need to,” Billy says, sniffing.  “Pain is pain.  It’s all the same no matter the cause.  Your body is releasing the pain, trust me, I know all about it.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Steve says, because Billy is right, pain is pain and everyone has it.  It’s not unique or special to Steve, he’s not going to feel sorry for himself as if he’s an outcast with some fucked up issues, he’s not, he’s normal.

Billy offers a slight shrug.  “Thanks.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes after that as Billy finishes his smoke, extinguishes it and settles into the seat as if he has nowhere else to be. 

“I can make you feel better,” Billy says, eyes looking straight ahead, out the windshield, not at Steve.

“You have weed?” Steve huffs a little laugh.  He’d totally get baked if he didn’t have to drive Dustin home. 

Billy waits a beat.  “No, I mean I can suck you off.”

Steve can’t even swallow, his entire body tenses as he realizes Billy is not joking.  His tone is serious, nonchalant, yet totally loaded.  He’s still staring out the window and it makes sense now, why he’s not looking at Steve, because he _can’t_.

Steve stares at the side of Billy’s face.  He has never considered getting a blow job from a guy before, but he’s heard it happens sometimes when guys are experimenting, but Steve is past experimenting and he sort of hates Billy, or at least he did until he found out his mom died and Billy still cries over it like a normal person, that he suffers his own pain that Steve knew nothing about.

“Uh…do you, uh, do you _want_ to do that or…” Steve says because he’s trying to figure out Billy’s angle.  Is he offering because he thinks he has to do something that extreme to make amends or because he likes Steve?

Billy finally looks at him, eyes narrow and lips tight.  “Or what? You want to fuck me instead?”

Steve’s heart hammers in his chest this time, pounds in his ears.  Fucking hell, that is _not_ what he meant but now that it’s on the table he can’t help but imagine what that’d be like.  Billy on his knees in front of him, Steve’s hands guiding his hips, pulling his ass back onto his dick.

Steve looks away, cheeks hot.  “No, I meant, are you offering because you think you have to do something for me to forgive you or because you want to do it, because you like me.”

Billy shrugs.  “I know you don’t like me.  It’s fine.  I still want to make you feel better.”

“Why?”

“Because I hurt you.”

Steve’s mind is still trying to catch up but his dick is all caught up and twitching in his pants.  A blow job is a blow job, right?  Billy is very pretty.  Almost like a girl.  He could model too, like he says his mom could’ve, so could he.

“Did you hurt me because…” Steve hesitates because he cannot believe he’s about to say this, “because you _like_ me?”

Billy reaches for the door handle.  “Never mind, just forget about it.”

Steve grabs his arm.  “No, wait, Billy…it’s okay.  If you like me, I mean.  It’s okay.  I won’t tell anyone.”

Billy relaxes back into the seat and slowly raises his eyes to Steve’s again.  “See, told you.  You’re a good person.”

“So you do like me?” Steve presses, he needs to hear him say it.

“Christ, you’re annoying.  What do you think?”  Billy rolls his eyes.

“But…why?” Steve asks, because he’s been dealing with his pain for so long that his mind cannot comprehend why Billy would like him.

“You want a fucking list?”

“Yes.”

Billy huffs.  “I don’t know, you’re just…it’s a lot of things, it’s everything.  I don’t know, you’re hot.”

“You think I’m hot?”  Steve is definitely intrigued by this piece of information.  Billy is definitely hot, anyone with eyes could see that.

“I’d rather suck your dick than answer your questions,” Billy says and Steve laughs.

“I, uh, can I think about it?” Steve _wants_ a blow job, but he doesn’t want one if Billy is coming from a place of low self-esteem or trying to make amends.  An apology will do just fine. 

Billy looks tense.  “If you gotta think about it then just say no.”

“I don’t want to say no, I want to say yes,” Steve says, because that’s the truth. 

“Then just say yes.”

“I don’t know if I can…” Steve waves his hand at Billy, indicating he’s not sure if he can reciprocate.

“I’m not asking for that,” Billy says.  “I’m only offering.”

Steve pauses.  “Yes,” he whispers, but remains stock still.  His breath is caught in his lungs as he waits for Billy to say it’s a joke and laugh at him or lean over and kiss him.

But Billy doesn’t kiss him.  His eyes drop to Steve’s lap, his fingers find his belt buckle and Steve is lifting his hips a little, cock already straining for what’s about to happen.  Billy must’ve done this before, Steve thinks as fingers graze his dick, pull it out into the chilly air of the car and wrap around it. 

And then Billy’s head is in his lap.

Steve jolts slightly at the feel of hot warmth sliding over the head of his dick.  Billy’s lips feel soft, no different than a girl’s, and they know the exact pressure, the perfect slide and Steve can’t help but close his eyes and put his hand in Billy’s hair.

He thinks he should imagine it’s a girl and not Billy, not make it so gay, but he likes that it’s Billy so he opens his eyes and takes in the blond hair bobbing in his lap.  Fuck, it feels so good.

Steve relaxes and lets his body take over.  Billy speeds up then slows down, licks up the vein then lavishes his tongue around the head then sucks and sucks and sucks and Steve feels it now, the familiar pull in his groin. 

He’s not even embarrassed by how fast he’s ready to come, because who the fuck cares, it’s not like Billy is going to tell anyone. 

“I’m gonna…” Steve warns him but Billy stays true to his task and just sucks harder.

Steve doesn’t mean to push down on Billy’s head as he starts to come, it’s reflex, but he eases up when he catches himself between convulsions as he empties into his raging hot mouth and throat.

And then it’s over and Steve’s mind resets as he tucks himself back into his jeans.  Billy is fumbling with another cigarette.

But before he can light it, Steve grabs the back of his head and leans over the console and kisses him.

It takes Billy a moment to kiss him back, but then they melt into each other’s mouths.  It’s not a long kiss, just enough to show affection, appreciation, even new attraction, and then Steve is leaning back and sighing blissfully.

Billy’s eyes are hopeful.  “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Steve chuckles.  “I wanted to.”

“I like you,” Billy says, like it’s new information.  It’s not.  Steve figured that out early on, but couldn’t really pinpoint how much Billy liked him until he got into his car uninvited.

“Are you going to stop pulling my pigtails now?” Steve asks, because all of Billy’s actions makes total sense now. 

Billy lights the smoke.  “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Don’t stop,” Steve says, a soft smile creeping up his cheeks.  “I like it.”

“Yeah, no shit.”  Billy smirks. 

“Do you want to hang out or something?” Steve asks.

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t we hanging out now?”

“No, like…next weekend.”

“Like a date?” Billy asks.

Steve isn’t ready to call it a date, but he’s beyond being in denial of what just happened, what he wants to happen again.  “Can we take it slow? I’ve gotta get my head wrapped around this first.”

Billy nods.  “Slow is good.  Next weekend then.”

And then Billy is out of Steve’s car and walking back to his own.  Steve isn’t sure how his night went from encouraging Dustin to believe in himself, sobbing in his car over _everything_ to getting blown by Billy Hargrove, but somehow, it was the perfect night.


End file.
